


Glints

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 21:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20365729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: 'She trembled. It wasn’t cold, and she wasn’t smiling. “Can... I ask you something?”'Fukawa reveals the existence of her alter to Togami.





	Glints

**Author's Note:**

> someone said they couldn't find a shipfic about this happening in canon so i wrote my own version..!

Though books filled every shelf and unit in Hope’s Peak’s library to their limits, the variety - or more specifically, lack of - left a lot to be desired. An inspection of the stock in the main area took Byakuya approximately five minutes. It consisted mostly of textbooks, sprinkled with books on rather specific topics such as histories of torture, biographies of infamous serial killers and detective novels, most likely to provide inspiration.

Their captor, Monobear, presumably slotted in those last books more recently, because a heavier film of dust covered the textbooks than them. The room smelled musty, of aged ink and sweat, and it lacked any windows. On one hand, the dust made sense considering the letter a group of them discovered in the library claimed the school stopped functioning as an educational facility a long time ago. If it ceased operating as such, then the books could do nothing but gather dust. That, however, didn’t explain what happened, or what could happen, to shut down one of the most prestigious academies in not just the country, but in the whole world.

The mystery dangled over their heads, a hook that glinted in the darkness surrounding them, and Byakuya vowed to uncover who wielded the fishing rod.

Byakuya flipped to the next page in the black folder he cradled in his hands, seated at a desk in the library, one leg crossed over the other. A cup of coffee exhaled steam beside him, sitting next to a lamp obtained from the storage room. Particles of dust floated in the beam of light. Dim lighting dampened the room, so without the lamp, he would have struggled to read for too long without straining his eyes. Occasionally, he shifted, reaching for his cup to take a swig from it, and he was halfway through it when he noticed a humanoid shadow across the room.

He suspended his coffee by his lips, with its nutty aroma filling his nostrils, and didn’t even need two guesses to ascertain the intruder’s identity. By now, the class had silently established the library as Byakuya’s second dwelling, a decision that he welcomed. The less time he had to be near any of them, the better. As a consequence, the only times anyone else ventured in was when Makoto attempted to get to know him better, which Byakuya scoffed at, and when a certain other individual slipped inside to ogle him from a distance.

A pair of eyes bore into Byakuya. Her head poked out from behind a bookcase as she watched him read. Watched him exist. Byakuya had tolerated it up to this point but now furrowed his brow. With every second that passed, the itching beneath his skin worsened, like bugs crawling in him. He set down his cup with a grimace.

“Oi.” His voice barked like a heavy book slamming down on a table. The shadowy figure jumped. “I know you’re there... Get out.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she shuffled out. Indeed, the person was Touko Fukawa, one of his classmates. Her burgundy braids hung down her back, stray hairs sticking out where they had escaped from their restraints. She took a couple of steps before stopping, biting her lip as she clenched her fists low down in front of her.

Byakuya returned his gaze to the folder in his possession and pushed up his glasses with one hand. A few seconds elapsed, and he still hadn’t heard any more footsteps. 

He wrinkled his nose.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? Get out,” he snapped without glancing up. “Leave the room.”

“Togami-kun,” said Touko in a hushed tone, still there. Still in the room.

Monochrome faces stared up at Byakuya from the pages within the folder. Accompanying each photograph of an individual were several photographs of their corpse, all upright, crucified with scissors against a message written in blood behind them.

Bloodstain fever.

When he lifted his head, they were as pale as Touko.

Byakuya glared at her. “Why are you still here?”

“I...” Touko stared at him, wide-eyed, and Byakuya’s breathing faltered. She trembled. It wasn’t cold, and she wasn’t smiling. “Can... I ask you something?”

He opened his mouth. Should have told her to scram. Should have not peered back at her, his lips faintly pursed, eyebrows arched.

“What is it?” he shouldn’t have asked, but did.

Touko shuddered as she straightened, but her shoulders sank almost immediately after. She wrapped her arms around herself and said, “You know Genocider Syo?”

Of course he did. He held their casefile in his hand right now and spent many hours researching them. Touko shifted her weight between feet, her features screwed up slightly like she tasted something bitter. Her lips quivered.

“The others wondered if that murderer... that monster... was in the school,” she started.

Byakuya sat up taller, frowning, and she trailed off. He didn’t reply right away, eyeing her.

“I see... you’re worried that he will kill you,” said Byakuya, and he tilted his head. Light flashed across his lenses. “Don’t be. I can say with utmost confidence that that killer isn’t here. According to his criminal profile, he is most likely a student. A student wouldn’t be able to orchestrate all this. Hope’s Peak couldn’t be shut down and repurposed by an ordinary student...”

“No!” Touko blurted, and he jerked his head back. Her eyes continued to fix on him. “It’s not that. That person... They’re in the school right now. I know this for a fact.”

“What?” He must have misheard. Or, more likely, she was mistaken. Paranoid. “What evidence do you have?”

Very slowly, she elevated a hand and then turned it to point at herself. 

“... because she’s inside of me,” stated Touko.

He stiffened. She didn’t laugh. Didn’t grin. Light shimmered in her eyes, against a dull, pale background as hard and smooth as marble. And Byakuya stared, stared at her.

“... What did you say?” he murmured. 

“We... We share a body,” explained Touko, shivering. Each word had to be dragged out. Pain ripped through her face as gates locked shut for so many years finally opened. “She was created when I was younger... created from an accumulation of abuse and pressure... We communicated via post-it notes at the beginning... I know every victim... I’ve woken up at crime scenes...”

That explained why the crime scenes showed signs of agitation. That explained a lot. A hell of a lot. Byakuya opened his mouth, even inhaled, but he didn’t say anything. When he didn’t, she did instead.

“And... each day I fear... she will come out and strike again.” Touko scrunched her face and thumped herself over her heart. Clutched her blouse. Sobs lodged in her throat, and every time they did, her shoulders heaved. Her other hand tugged on her hair. “And that... that she will kill again, and in this awful place, where murder is encouraged... every night is Russian Roulette. Blood triggers me, and I nearly switched after Kuwata’s death... It’s only a matter of time now. I don’t want her to kill anyone again. I don’t want to die. But most importantly...”

Her breath shook.

“... I don’t want her to kill you!”

The room held its breath, hushed and strangled. Its pressure coiled around his neck. His heart raced, and he couldn’t look away from the small frame of the girl in front of him. An assertion like that ought to have needed more proof, but before he could ask, or even think to ask, she bent over and hiked up her skirt.

On her left thigh, a tally of scars. He counted. They matched the victim count. Then he drew his eyes over to her right thigh. His eyebrows climbed. On it, she wore a leather holster, and very clearly he could see customised scissors that he had only seen in photographs... along with a set he purchased on the black market.

Byakuya rose off his chair and walked forward with a hand extended. Once he arrived in front of her, he pulled a pair of her scissors out of the holster and raised the silver instrument to eye level. They were hers. Custom, uniquely shaped with curved finger rests and other protrusions. They were undoubtedly Genocider Syo’s.

His eyes flickered. He felt a chill. He actually felt a chill that hit his core.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, with his eyes trained on the scissors.

“With your help... I can try to keep her inside,” Touko said. She stepped closer. Byakuya didn’t move. “If I can’t abolish her, I can at least stop her.”

He forced his gaze upward. His tone remained guarded. “Where do I come into all this?”

“If I can... be with you... I can stop her.” Touko squared her shoulders. Anguish still cracked her face, but her eyes drilled into him, hard and fierce. “You can give me the strength to stop her. I just need you to promise me you won’t tell... and that you’ll help me.”

Byakuya blinked. His brow creased. Time ticked past.

“... Alright,” he said as he looked down. She exhaled loudly.

“As long as we’re in this place, no matter what happens, I won’t let Genocider Syo kill again,” promised Touko. “T-Thank you, Togami-kun...!”

“... Leave.”

Touko bowed, then rushed out. Byakuya stayed standing where he was, and a good while passed after she left before he set the folder onto the nearest desk. The folder containing the case file of the murderer he had just spoken to. Who told him her secret, and who knew he knew it.

He gritted his teeth. Her selfishness had put a timer on his head. It was only a matter of time before the murderer sought him out to silence him... and who would everyone believe if he revealed it to everyone over breakfast? That this girl’s alter was a serial killer? Would they believe a timid, stuttering girl who fainted at the sight of blood or a cold heir who announced he would win this killing game? 

Perhaps he could reveal her scissors. No... she wouldn’t have them on her now he knew about them, and the others would consider him a pervert if he tried. 

Having to live with a secret like that, and with what had created Genocider Syo, no wonder her personality turned dark.

Ever since he discovered the case years ago, he yearned to uncover the killer. He studied them, and when he arrived at this school and stumbled upon their case file, a fire reignited in his chest, bright, intense.

And right now, that flame billowed inside of him.

Now the game had become interesting.

Byakuya crossed the library and returned the case file to the storage room. Until the right time came, he would have to keep her secret. Keep her promise. 

His eyes lingered on the casefile. Touko claimed to be able to stop Genocider Syo if he was with her... did she think he was a love interest in a romance novel, able to fix everything and dot it with a happy ever after? Did Touko think her pathetic crush on him would be powerful enough to suppress Genocider Syo? Her crush on someone she had only known for a few weeks, not months, or years. It wasn’t like they attended school here together. She seemed to believe ‘love’ would make her strong enough, when in reality, it would cause weakness.

Was it weakness that made her confide in him... or strength?

It had to be weakness.

Life taught him love would always lead to weakness.

He put the casefile away, and as he left the library, he couldn’t help but smirk as his mind drifted back to Touko. Her eyes glinted like a hook in the darkness. Or, more appropriately, like a pair of scissors.

Touko Fukawa... was a very interesting girl.


End file.
